Assassins Creed III-Aligned Paths
by thatoneguy2112
Summary: You found yourself caught between two very different worlds, both of them aimed for the destruction of the one another. Though, when a peculiar assassin had captured your upmost assiduity, all of your previous ways of life were altered, including those of whom you trusted.
1. Intro & Reader Insert

**What is a Reader-Insert?**

Basically, a Reader-Insert is a story where _you_ \- yes **YOU** \- will be inserted into the story!

Exciting isn't it?

Well, it's really entertaining for those who would like to transport themselves into the world of Assassins Creed III, where they will interact with the many characters of AC3 as well.

There are a few things that I would like for you to keep in mind while reading this story.

I will list these below:

1\. **(Name)** \- Whenever you see this, it means that you should _insert your own name,_ or whatever else you choose.

2\. **(e/c)** \- Upon seeing this, you should insert your _eye color_.

3\. **(h/c)** \- This simply means to add your _hair color_.

That's basically everything that you'll need to remember while reading! I hope it isn't too much, and that you'll enjoy the adventure that awaits you in the world of Assassins Creed III.

Continue on, and enjoy~ ^_^


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Assassins Creed III, all rights are reserved for Ubisoft.

 **Until Next Time**

 _Boston, 1773_

It started off as any other day at the Inn, until he waltzed inside and brought along some unwanted friends of his. You were in the backroom of the Inn when the everything went downhill. All you wished to do was finish drying off a few tankards, and return back to your home where you would rest. But no, it all had change on that day, though it was for the better you presumed.

There was a thick shriek that drowned in fear, closely followed by an ear-splitting shot. Sharp steel was heard repeatedly slicing through flesh, indicating the severity of the outburst. Shouts and screams distracted you from wiping the forgotten tankard in your hands. In a fright, the object slipped from your grasp as you reflexively sped out of the room for a better look.

Chaos surrounded the Inn, people shoving past one another in a desperate rush toward the single exit. Tankards full of ale splattered onto the floor in a mess, along with scattered chairs and tables that were carelessly discarded across the room.

It was more than the occasional brawl, for a great amount of blood was spilled, painting the walls and floor red. A few unfortunate, lifeless corpses lay prone and the sickness in your gut stirred even more at the sight of them. From what you had seen, they were all in uniform. The British Recoats?

In the midst of the rising commotion, your conflicted vision barely managed to catch sight of a few more British soldiers to confirm your uncertainty. Each of them took their turns throwing violent swings at a particular lone, hooded man. However, it wasn't your business and your first priority is to exit the premises before things get too sticky.

Ignoring them, you pivot on your heel to flee, yet what you saw next was petrifying.

Your eyes had widened when you came face to face with another Recoat, his eyes as large and terrified as your own. It felt as if he was more afraid of you then you were of him, which you would have suspected. In a blink of an eye, the trigger-happy bastard hastily snatched up the nearest musket from the debris-covered floor, aiming straight for your head.

Was he mad?! You've done nothing, you're innocent!

It wasn't that you wanted to die, but it was the fact that you had no time to strike first.

"Move!" an intruding voice rang in your aching head.

Just a few seconds later, a rather large figure had squeezed itself between you and the musket's muzzle. Bewildered, your gaze remained fixed on your human shield when the musket was knocked from the Redcoat's grip with such swift movement.

So effortless and flawless...

A gasp ripped from your throat when another masculine voice resounded across the Inn.

"The Assassin is here! HE'S HERE!" were the words that echoed from the entrance.

Once more, the Inn's doors were swung wide open.

You glanced over the so called "Assassin's" shoulder, looking past the bow that partially blocked your vision. Sure enough, more Redcoats stormed inside, muskets in hands.

Oh bollocks...

It was then that you had finally realized that your unknown savior was indeed an Assassin, and in need of dire assistance. Even though his title frightened you to the bone, you couldn't just abandon him. You were more than sure he was capable of fending for himself, though your caring nature wasn't able to leave him. He was the one who saved your life from the Redcoat, so you chose to help him.

An eye for an eye.

"Follow me!" you suddenly ordered, promptly reaching for his arm.

With a tight grip, his larger form was dragged behind yours. He complied without much protest, falling in synch with your hasty footsteps toward the backroom. The only safe haven left.

Once inside, you slammed the door shut, locking it. Desperate for a way out, you staggered for the window.

However, out of pure curiosity, you turned back toward the Assassin decorated in traditional white robes, lined with blue accents. Firearms, daggers, a tomahawk, and things of discreet weaponry were strapped across his waist. The words you hoped to sound form your throat remained on the tip of your tongue, staring in slight awe.

A strong sense of native culture was obvious in his attire, this much you knew.

As hard as you tried, you weren't able to interpret his features due to the hood that obscured him from your eyes. The lighting in the room did little to help either. Besides, it wasn't time for such nonsense. It didn't take long before there were shouts heard from behind the door. The sudden interruption knocked you from your investigation session.

"In there" a muffled voice broke through, "they went in there!"

The sound of the Redcoat's attempts to barge through the door were heard from the other side.

The Assassin tensed, head craning toward the door. You, on the other hand, scrambled behind his back, trying your damnedest to shove him toward the open window.

"Crawl out, and I'll see your escape through" you whispered frantically.

Still, you struggled to push his heavier body forward.

Must he be so damn heavy?

As if sensing your thoughts, the Assassin dashed forward, lunging himself out into the street. Taken aback, you ran over to the window, expecting him to run off, never to be seen again. Instead he stood there, turning his hooded head in your direction.

"Go!" You gestured with a hurried movement of your hands, leaning out the window.

Despite your advice, the Assassin didn't budge from his spot.

"Are you mad? Go on, hide yourself!" you continued.

He merely shuffled back, shrouded eyes gazing up at you.

"What is your name?" he spoke for the first time.

Little did he know that his voice was kind to your ears, holding a tone of honesty, a tone that pleased your wryness. Even still, your lurking headache returned ten-fold. There was no time to fancy over an Assassin's voice. You weren't supposed to be helping him anyway.

"I' (Name)," you replied a little hesitant. "Is that all you wish to know?"

It was strange for you indeed, aiding an Assassin of all people...

He stared at you for a second longer, studying your newly acquainted face for a short time. His hidden gaze took in your distinct eyes and slightly tousled hair, the way you gulped when he stared for too long. Still, it was when his eyes narrowed at the small sterling silver medallion that caused you to feel uneasy under his gaze.

What if he knew?

Unsettled, you inhaled as the medallion swung loosely around your neck. But, you blinked when the Assassin's jaw had clenched, quickly tucking the medallion inside of your blouse. In secret, you slid your hand over the right, hiding your ring from view as well.

You wondered if he had figured it out-more than likely he had. It was a symbol that was achingly unmistakable to his kind, the Assassins.

Honestly, you feared if you would take a blade to your neck with the threatening way he was eyeing you.

" Is...is something wrong?" you fidgeted in your spot, trying to brush off the situation as best you could.

It was a poor choice of words, and you knew it-he knew it too.

The Assassin only took another step closer, and you leaned away, intimidated by the scrutiny that radiated from him. Surely, the pieces of your puzzle would be solved if he remained in your presence any longer.

His chin tilted upwards the slightest bit, stating, "Your aid has proven itself useful tonight."

Relief pooled around when you saw his tensed muscles relax before he continued.

"I will find a way to repay the favor on my return," he ensured.

As much as you hated to admit it, he was quite charming in his own distinguished way. Something about him was... familiar and gripping.

Your mouth fell slightly agape, perplexed, and unable to reply immediately. You were voiceless when your head slowly nodded in response.

"Of course," you uttered.

With one last reassured nod, the Assassin turned and sprinted off through the streets of Boston, leaving you at the window in your flustered daze.

Did you catch a glimpse of a hidden smile before his departure? Or was it a menacing scowl? Maybe something between the two?

Either way, you certainly looked forward to the day you would cross paths with him again,. That day would be soon. Your intuition was often right. If you were to encounter each other again, would it only cause more complications? Your teeth worried your bottom, watching him make his escape as the door behind you crashed to the floor, paving the way for British soldiers to swarm inside.

But they were much too late now. They'd never catch him at their best efforts, and for some reason, the corners of your lips wished to quirk upward at this fact. The success of his escape by your aid.

Meanwhile, the Assassin's form receded to mingle with the crowd. All the while, your fingers mindlessly traced over the sleek shape of the medallion pressed to your skin... a few words were never able to leave your lips.

"Just who are you, really?"


End file.
